The gears will keep on turning
by 0blivion
Summary: The life story of Haymitch Abernathy - Mainly focusing from The Second Quater Quell his gains and losses and everything in between. No matter what whether he lives or dies the gears in this clock will keep on turning. Do you know the true Haymitch Abernathy?
1. The Reaping

**So this is a story that follows Haymitch's life through the events of the Quatar Quell. His losses, gains and everything in between. This was written a while ago and I found it - It's one of my first pieces so don't shoot flames! Rated M for possible later themes and whatnot.**

Enjoy!

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The usual occurred in the Reapings in District 1, 2 and 4 – The Career districts four were picked to go to the games and then four other stronger competitors took their place. After all to them winning The Games would hail glory and status beyond that which many of them already had. To them it wasn't anything new, if they died then they had the honour of their district but if they won then once again they would be hailed with gifts and prizes beyond that which they could normally afford. Haymitch viewed these "Careers" as they were so called by the later districts as The Capitol's lapdogs doing whatever they could to please the Capitol and win affection and status.

Haymitch was a boy aged 16, he had the typical Seam look – dark smoky grey charcoal eyes and dark hair which was cropped close to his head. To most he was rather attractive and he knew this but he never acted on it. He had a girlfriend - Maia with whom he was content and each year he added his name an extra two times to make sure her family were well stocked for the year. Each year in the Tesserae he had entered his name once for himself which put his name down 5 times, twice for his mother which meant his name was put down 18 times - for each tesserae you took an extra 5 times would be added, one for his younger brother – another 9 and then two for Maia's family – Another 18.

In total his tesserae amount was 50 times – to have your tesserae level at this amount was almost putting yourself out for suicide it was almost definite that one year he would be picked. This year the chances of him being picked were doubled since there were four tributes to be picked not that he minded, The Seam was a place you could starve to death in safety so either way it would be putting your name in to get food so that you could last a few more years to wait out and see if you'd die of starvation at least if you put your name in you knew when you'd die, to Haymitch knowing was better than waiting and so he stood buttoning up his dark navy shirt. When everyone else wore light blue he always stood out in his dark shirt. Running a hand through his hair slowly he drew in a deep breath before walking out to join his family for what may be the last time.

He took his brother's hand and the Abernathy family headed out of the house down the street to the square where the citizens of district 12 had already gathered. His parents moved to stand with the others to watch if their children would be picked. Haymitch led his brother Ray towards the section where the boys would stand. He didn't let his brother stand with the others his age merely kept Ray beside him at all times his hand firmly placed upon his younger brother's shoulder. The screens above the square flickered into life and what little electricity there was, was re-routed to the screens so that they could watch in ascending order as the four tributes were picked. In 1, 2 and 4 the usual occurred and then from then on when four were selected no one went to take their place.

Eventually after District 11 had been picked the presenter from the Capitol took to the stage and greeted them all as if she were to announce the roles in the next play. Because that was what this was, these people stood around him were puppets to The Capitol ready to play in their so-called entertainment shows. The girls were always picked first, he instantly recognized one of the girls she was a girl who he used to sit next to when he was in school her name. . . He couldn't place it at first and then it clicked – Maysilee Donner she was a medium-height girl the same age as him. She had fair-Blonde hair which seemed to shine in the warm afternoon heat.

The question was asked. "Are there any volunteers?" It rang out across the square bouncing off the walls of the derelict buildings which littered the edge of the square. Of course no one stood forward and soon enough they were on to the boys. The hand went into the Tesserae containing every boy's name and he waited for it to happen. The first boy one of 12 was picked, it was his first year ever in the Games and he would most surly die in the first week Haymitch assumed. The hand went back into the globe and then it happened, he knew it would the words rang out across the square.

"The final tribute for The 50th Quarter Quell is Haymitch Abernathy!" The excited voice rang out over the square but no one shared the joy, he looked to his brother crouched down and hugged him tightly. Neither cried they didn't cry he'd taught his brother that no matter what he shouldn't cry for him even if he died because he did it because of a noble cause. He brushed the young boy's hair before making his way through the parting crowd up to the stage. The question echoed again and he could see the fear upon the people's faces. "Are there any volunteers?"

And again, no answer the four tributes left the stage and then made their way to the Justice building to await their fate. Haymitch walked down the steps and through the stone door into a small cell-like room, he sat on the bed and awaited his fate. . .


	2. The Journey Begins

Haymitch sat alone in the cell-like room he'd tried to sleep but he couldn't bring himself to. He now found himself sat against the wall of the cell awaiting transport to his death. He'd told his family on the day that he had turned 12 that if he ever got chosen they shouldn't come to visit him. He knew it'd only make it more difficult and he'd left a note under his brother's pillow as he did every year the Reaping came around. Although each year that letter was burnt and rewritten the next. He sighed when he heard the door open and Maia came in, she walked over to where he was sat on the floor, kneeling down in front of him. She took his slender hands in her own.

Moving one of her hands to his cheek her thumb lightly brushing his skin as she always did when he was in need of comfort. Only she understood him, she was the only person who knew how to calm and control him. In the next instant her lips brushed against his own in the gentlest of kisses, his muscular arms wrapped around her slender waist as he held her. She stayed curled into his body until the Peace Keepers came to drag him off to his death. When the time came and the door swung open he pulled away from Maia taking her hand in his he murmured "Remember me now and how I was." With a final farewell kiss he left flanked by two Peace Keepers gripping in his hand the necklaces she had made for him. The doors of the Justice Building swung open and the light blinded him after being locked in a cell for so long.

He trudged along the path towards the station where the train awaited him and the three other tributes. He said nothing to any of them keeping his thoughts to himself until he boarded the train; he retired straight to his quarters. Sitting down on the bed in the cabin dedicated to him he sat on the too-comfy bed his back resting against the headboard to look out the window as his home rushed away into the distance. He didn't know, to him this would most likely be the last time he saw him home, he'd never return the odds were against him and he knew that but he kept hope. His hand clenched around the wooden tags that Maia had handed to him. He didn't cry merely sat in silence as the train rocked ever-so-slightly as it continued on its journey towards his death. Haymitch moved the two wooden necklaces over his head and let them rest against his navy blue shirt.

Eventually his mentor Brooke Tylerson a tall thin and sharp faced woman knocked sharply on the door telling him that he had to go and eat. Eventually she ended up gripping him by his ear and dragging him out of the cabin down to the food-cart and dumped him into a seat. "Eat." Would be all she said as he walked back to her chair. Haymitch sighed to this treatment and eventually ended up eating a bowl of tomato soup and a few loafs of bread smothered with butter along with it. He didn't eat much, he knew that most who did wouldn't be able to handle the rich food that the Capitol's had so he sticked with simple food such as fruits and soups. Eventually after having nothing else to say he headed back down the aisle to his cabin, he passed Maysilee's cabin and as he walked past he heard quiet sobs coming from inside.

Haymitch sighed stopping to knock on the door before pushing it open without even asking if he was allowed in. He saw Maysilee curled up in the corner holding her knees in to her chest much like a young girl would when she was frightened of a thunder-storm or something. "Maysilee. . ." He didn't know what to say, he sighed walking to sit in front of her his smoky eyes looking at her with a sympathy he didn't realise he could have. "Come on May, you have to be strong." He murmured quiet using his shirt sleeve to brush away her tears. He wasn't sure what made him do it but his arms wrapped around her and he hugged her gently rubbing her back, it just seemed like natural instinct she was in a way the only person he could relate to. "You need to be strong like you were before." He said hearing her sobs quieten before she eventually pulled back after a few minutes. "Come on May we can do this." He knew his words rang hollow truth only one person would come out of this and District 12 always had the lowest exit rate.

After sitting with Maysilee for a few hours and slipping out to fetch her a few glasses of water from the foor-trolley Haymitch soon had her slightly happier and more like her old confident self. They hadn't realised that they were nearly at their destination and so when the over-coms rang out to announce that they were just arriving to The Capitol Haymitch walked out into the aisle followed by Maysilee. He climbed up the ladder to the top of the train pushing open the hatch in order to look out over The Capital. It was vast, much more than what he'd ever thought it would be. Shining in the evening light like a beacon. However it was then that Haymitch was reminded what it stood for and shook his head in disgust. If they could build that when people were dying of starvation then whoever owned it was a foul loathsome creature. He knew who that person was, President Snow. The one person who inflicted misery over every surviving district. Such displays disgusted him beyond what words would ever be able to explain. Soon enough he was back inside the train and leading Maysilee to gather what little stuff they had bought with them.

Maysilee and Haymitch exited the train onto the bright and shining Capitol station, taking their few possessions with them as they headed after their mentor in the direction which they assumed would be their hotel. They were correct, soon enough they arrived at the building where they would be housed until the Quarter Quell began. Outside the entrance people with cameras waited to get pictures of the tributes as they entered and almost as soon as they neared the door there was uproar of voices and cameras. It made them all feel dizzy as they hurried into the reception and to the elevator, Brooke moved a thin finger to the District 12 button on the silver panel and the five of them found themselves shooting up towards the top floor of the hotel. This would be where the contest would start, not in the Arena; they had the Training to go through yet.

_**The Games were yet to begin. . .**_


	3. Changes

Haymitch didn't have time to even register the darkness that was outside the window as he found himself being tipped roughly out of his sleep. He fell out onto the floor muttering curses and groggy comments at whomever it was who had disturbed him. Whoever it was. . . Which he would figure out when he was more awake would pay for waking him later but for now he was busy trying to untwine his limbs from the mass of sheets he was wrapped in.

Eventually managing to crawl out of the sheets and sit rubbing his hands over his eyes finally allowing them to register that it was none other than Brooke. He would do anything for it to be anyone other than this task-master of a woman. Haymitch huffed and dragged himself to his feet as he voice rang in his ears, now was the time to meet the stylists. He sighed hoping that it wasn't anything too bad this year. With this he half walked half dragged himself to the bathroom getting a shower before dragging himself over to the wardrobe which housed various suits. Taking one he slipped it on leaving the shirt underneath unbuttoned at the top before heading down to the meeting quarters.

In the room he noted stood the other three tributes including Maysilee whom he flashed a bright grin to upon noticing her. Soon enough they all took places at the table to fill up on food, Haymitch himself only taking a small amount of food from the plate and stacking this up on his black rounded plate. Tucking into this in silence much like Maysilee did not talking or looking at anyone, keeping himself to himself. Soon enough they'd finished and the plates were gone along with the remains. Haymitch pushed himself to his feet upon hearing Brooke call them to follow her he fell into pace beside Maysilee. "Morning, How are you?" He asked her with a tired smile as they all rode the elevator down to the stylists quarters.

Walking out the other tributes excluding Haymitch and Maysilee looked around in absolute awe of the place around them. Haymitch and Maysilee walked over to a set of chairs on the edge of the room settling down in them to see what these 'stylists' had in store for them to wear at the opening ceremony.

The doors to the room burst open and a flood of Capitol styled people walked in. They looked abnormal as always, one had sapphire blue, another had a lime green wig on with a bright pink bow tied around the middle Haymitch's eyes widened in shock. . . If these people were going to be able to style then. . . He wanted nothing of it and so he folded his arms firmly over one another his expression set in one of defiance, it was then that he noticed the two more plainly dressed people who walked in behind them making their way over to where Haymitch and Maysilee were sat. Soon enough a group of varying Capitol members were rushing around the pair and ushering them away being followed by the other two Capitol stylists. The man had black swirling tattoos across his face and the woman a metallic red shade to her hair. They weren't as abnormal as the others rushing about him the other two looked more composed.

He smiled when the realisation hit him the others were just the prep team; these two were the real stylists they walked off into a smaller room leaving the tributes alone with the prep team. Haymitch automatically relaxed and sat back in his chair. Just his luck to be the first to be chosen in an instant he was dragged to his feet and stood on a platform.

Then soon enough he found his clothes were being tugged from his body and he was being dragged off into another separate room by the babbling prep team. He struggled to get them off him but to no avail, he was dumped in a tub of disgusting blue gloopy mixture before being picked up and shoved into a freezing cold shower. The next thing he knew he was being placed in another bath which smelt more like apples and berries. Finally he was taken and rubbed down with salts he was too tired to fight against them anymore his body felt sore and ached from the treatment it had had but the pain hadn't stopped yet.

He was given a paper robe and laid upon a table before every inch of his body was waxed he hissed and spat foul mouthed curses at the team as they finally left him to get dressed. He grumbled pulling his clothes back on running his hands through his hair. He sighed as he stood looking at his spotless arms, the scars from the accidents in the mines were gone and only smooth creamy toned flesh remained.

Haymitch stood in the centre of the room waiting for the two stylists to come in and eventually they did. The two capitol stylists whom he found out to be called Messalla and Castor seemed to study him before making a few notes and nodding. Castor who stepped forward wearing a well-tailored suit offered his hand in greeting. Haymitch reluctantly took his preened hand with the perfect and unchipped nails in his own and shook it firmly. "I think we'll be leaving you as you are for the Opening Ceremony, I don't want you hair touched okay? Keep it like that and you'll have woman head over heels for you." Castor the taller male said, Messalla a shorter woman with dark black hair nodded in agreement. Haymitch didn't reply merely nodded his head.

Castor and Mesalla escorted Haymitch down to the Dressing room before telling him that should he need anything just to use the intercom with this they left him alone. The dressing room was large and spacious; there were couches and a large television on the wall with an olive skinned reporter discussing the event yet to come. He knew the crowds were out in their thousands merely ten metres above his head and yet he could hear nothing of them. Turning his attention to the wall he saw a perfectly tailored suit the jacket made out of black velvet the lapel itself being studded with red shimmering diamonds. The cuffs were intricately designed with the same diamonds these being reds, oranges and yellows in the shapes of flames then. He smiled and walked towards it before taking the suit down and pulling off his shirt replacing it with the bright white one noting there was no tie so he left the top few buttons undone before sliding the black jacket over his arms.

It fitted to perfection, not too tight but neither too lose the design and cut seeming to envelope every slight muscle that was over his body defining his slim shape but muscular build. His hair had been left as he'd been told, slightly ruffled up at the front and then flicked off to the right leaving it in its usual tousled state. After a few moments which he took to compose himself, Haymitch walked to the door and pushed it open. Walking out into the early evening to greet the other three tributes who were dressed much like he was, although the cut and shape didn't quite suit the other boy the way that it had done him.

Haymitch turned to look at Maysilee and his eyes widened, her long blonde hair tumbled in ringlets down over a black dress which had diamonds much like his cuffs over the bodice even in the light of the evening the diamonds rippled with light reflecting her every shift and movement. Haymitch found himself transfixed as he watched her make her way slowly to join him aside the final carriage for their district. The carriage itself was pulled by jet black horses and the stadium route was around a ring of fire he knew this from being told it earlier by Brooke. He took Maysilee's pale hand in his own helping her up into the black and silver carriage before climbing aboard himself.

The next thing he knew they were making their way down the short route which led to the opening ring which was ablaze with firelight in the now drawn in blackness of the night. This. . . He thought to himself would be the best he would feel in a long time so he better make the most of it and so his left arm wrapped around Maysilee for support for both herself and him as they approached the ceremony route.


	4. Traditions To Be Kept

The smile that crossed his lips was bright and wide he knew if he wanted to make an impression – especially here then he'd have to play the part of the oh so happy boy from District 12. Their chariot approached the black marble gated which as the 24 chariots rode toward swung open to reveal the track and circuit they would follow. The president's box was obvious, banners hung down from it to mark it clearly and all around there were cheering Capitol citizens. Obviously very proud to show they had been worthy enough to be able to get tickets to see first-hand the entertainment and fresh meat that had been served to them on a silver platter.

Haymitch knew, they were this meat their entertainment to play and pick with until they were no-longer satisfied. This information sickened him to the core not that it showed in his expression, as their gates passed through the marble gates suddenly an intense heat grew around him. His vision began to blur when he realised that their chariot . . . Was ablaze with fire the ridges and delicately carved panels which he hadn't taken notice to were engulfed with blue and orange flames – nothing like he'd ever seen before in his life. Maysilee gasped as well half in fear and the other half in wonder as their costumes were lit up to full effect casting bright lights to reflect off the diamonds of her corset and the diamonds which littered his cuffs.

The relief that flooded him when he realised that this stunt had been planned he noted the way that on the screen the cameras were trained upon them and only them. His arm wrapping tighter around Maysilee's waist for both support for himself and her he raised his free hand and began to wave towards the crowds who had started cheering for District 12. The first time. . . Well ever or so he knew of. His smile grew wider as abnormally bright roses were tossed down towards them as they rode past. He'd kill Castor for not telling him about this trick but for the minute it'd have to wait. He continued to wave as they swung around passing The President's box before their chariots were drawn back around towards the twin identical gates which they were to exit from.

The horses pulled their blazing cart down over the cobbled path their hooves clattering against the cobbles with a steady beat very much unlike what Haymitch's heart rate was like right now. It was beating unsteadily although beginning to slow now that the act was nearly up, as soon as the doors slammed shut behind them he relaxed and sighed. They were away from the judging eyes of the citizens and he could return back to the quiet realm that was his mind. He shifted his gaze to Maysilee as the chariot was doused with water causing the flames to go out with a hissing and sizzling sounds. Haymitch stepped down before turning to lift the slender form of Maysilee from the chariot placing her down on the floor she looked pale to him probably still scared-witless after that fire stunt.

Castor and Messalla came out with bright and beaming grins on their faces, to which Haymitch only grumbled before walking straight up to them and jabbing his thin slender finger into Castor's chest accusingly. "Were you trying to fry us like pigs? We could've burnt to death in that!" He was angry and his voice easily conveyed that he couldn't stand the unknown which was the main thing he dreaded about the games themselves. His finger jabbed into Castor's tailored jacket again. "Did you think about that? Think about us? Or were you just trying to kill us before the Games have even begun?!" His voice rose slightly he knew his face was starting to go red with him anger and he knew he had to calm down.

Without a second word he turned and stormed off to the changing rooms quickly switching back to the more comforting clothes he had worn earlier in the day and hanging up the suit. He knew he'd gone too far with his words but he wouldn't apologise, not any time soon at least. Haymitch was just turning to walk up to the lift although he walked straight into the imposing figure of Brooke. Falling back in a heap he grumbled getting to his feet. "Get out of my way. . . I don't want to talk to you." He said his glare evident.

"Then don't talk just listen." Was all that she said to his words her eyes were much like his own – charcoal grey. "You have attitude which is good but attitude won't win you the Games. To do that you have to play an angle. Now Haymitch what's your angle? You can't just go around with attitude you'll end up dead in a week, you need to use your intelligence to outwit the rest of the tributes. Use your intelligence and you'll win." She said her eyes never leaving his once as she spoke. Haymitch merely stood there in silence he knew the training would start tomorrow to determine what mark they'd be given by the Capitol.

"In the training. . ." She grabbed his sharp chiselled chin with her pale hand turning his face to face her own as he spoke her words making sure they sank in. "You are to try everything, everything you can. Learn new skills try to master as much as possible and you'll get far. But whatever is your strongest weapon don't go for it save that for the final tests. I don't want the others knowing your strengths and weaknesses." As soon as she had appeared Brooke was gone almost like smoke. Haymitch stood mulling over her words before nodding slowly heading out towards the lift and back up to his Quarters. Walking into them he fell down on the soft bedding not caring about changing allowing himself to be consumed by the blackness of sleep which washed over his body from the strenuous day.


	5. Training Begins

Haymitch woke when the small clock which had been placed beside his bed started to make the most irritating beeping sound in the world. He lay there his eyes screwed shut rolling over taking the pillow and pulling them over the back of his head as he tried to block out the sounds of the world. He didn't want to go to training he wasn't in the mood for it. . . Although when would he ever be in the mood for it? His long toned arm shot out and gave the beeping plastic creature a few hard slams with a closed fist just trying to shut the damn thing up. Although all his actions led to the alarm being pushed off the edge of the dresser beside his bed landing with a 'thump' on the floor before rolling away under the chest of drawers still beeping loudly.

Haymitch just cursed as he dragged himself out of bed crawling after the sound trying to locate the source, eventually after a few more minutes of groping around in the darkness for the thing that had ruined his sleep he found the silver alarm-clock turning it off properly before tossing it aside and curling up in the sheets he had dragged off the bed with him. He lay on the wooden floor staring up at the ceiling before pushing himself up to his feet, his clothes had already been laid out for him so all he needed to do now was get ready before meeting the rest of the tributes from his district before all 42 of them were taken to meet outside the Training Rooms.

On the elevator ride down Haymitch once again found himself stood with Brooke to his left who seemed to be too lively even for this time in the morning and Maysilee on his right – She looked worse than he did and she'd gotten more sleep than he. Haymitch closed his eyes taking a few deep breaths to calm and clear his mind before stepping out of the elevator when they arrived. His eyes scanning his new surroundings taking in every fine detail around him there were seats that lined the edge of the room and a small refreshment bar.

Straight away Haymitch's attention was drawn to the imposing twin black doors which led to the training room. His grey eyes finally tore away from the doors and he straightened himself to his full height. He was quite tall and well-muscled although he was still fairly thin. Mainly due to the bare rations he managed to get when he often went out into the woods to fetch berries for his family. On these meagre rations from which he lived he had built a good foundation upon which he had managed to tone his body to the strongest it would be with the minimum amount of food needed.

He had continued to work when he was starving and the grain had arrived two weeks late he had nearly killed himself keeping up the vigorous routine however his effort had paid off and as he walked the muscles over his body coiled and relaxed almost in synchronisation as though they had been trained to move that way. The other districts were already in the room and so the tributes from 12 joined the line before the door as they swung open. Haymitch walked after the line although when the others picked up a water-bottle marked for their district he left his continuing straight past without a second glance back at it.

The room into which he had entered was dimly lit and there was glass panelling high over it where the Game-Makers would sometimes reside. Although Haymitch looked around at the stations which they all had to their access, he'd trained for most of his life using small or big knives and when he saw a knife station he smiled. However it was then that Brooke's words popped back into his head. "I don't want the others knowing your strengths and weaknesses." And with this his head turned away and he walked over to the agility course which ran around the edge of the room. He easily stepped up onto the starting platform looking to where he would be going; the trainer who stood there held a stop watch and after a brief exchanged nod started the watch.

Haymitch launched off the starting platform onto the tall round poles easily hopping from one to another with long strides his foot only barely touching the post before he was sailing off towards the next. His next obstacle was the monkey-bars onto which he latched his hands with firm grips, hauling his weight over this he dropped onto the platform at the other end of the large gap. His eyes narrowed when he saw the maze of cabled through which he'd have to climb to finish although he said nothing as he jogged to it. Dropping to the floor as soon as he reached the cables he noted that the route was clear before shimming through under the cables where the others had lost time trying to fit through the gaps between the cables. He jumped to his feet before making his way to the red mad marked 'finish' the trainer came over and gave him a few words of encouragement and praise that he had been the fastest that'd completed the task.

Upon completing the agility course Haymitch spent his training sessions working around the various stations which were set out, he found over the course of this time that he was quite adept at making nets and wire traps. He also had another talent of being able to make smoke, light and stun bombs out of natural herbs although he didn't make this known he'd save that for another time it was something he had discovered in a book of his father's when he was a young boy and he had committed to learning the instructions off by heart.

The training sessions came the same each time, Haymitch would make his way in work himself flat out until the end before returning back to the Quarters, Balcony or Roof where he would often meet Maysilee and they would discuss what they had dreamt of doing when they grew up – he had discovered that she had a passion for music and drawing although she only ever had wooden boards and knives as her art tools. He never really considered art or music; he'd not had the time for such things so it was intriguing for him to learn about these new things.

He always used to sit with his back to the wall of their Quarters and look out over the shimmering Capitol which lay spread out bare in front of them from the height of their rooms. The time that they found themselves up here was when the sun was just setting over the horizon allowing the cloak of night to take a hold of the world once more. They would talk into the night watching the stars that shone brightly above their heads, Haymitch always taught her the name of a new star each night and explained the meaning behind their names – Another useless thing he had been taught by his father's books when he was a young boy.

Eventually the day came around when they would demonstrate their talents to the Game-Makers. Haymitch pulled on his black trousers and grey cotton shirt which clung tightly to his frame before grabbing a few pieces of fruit and making his way to the balcony where he ate them thinking to himself. The call came and he made his way down to his 'final viewing' or at least the last private one. The room was empty he was obviously the last to have been called down and so he waited before the black doors swung open and he made his way inside. The Game-Makers were sat in their chairs overviewing the room in which he now stood, it was eerily silent but he didn't mind. Haymitch finally made his way over to the rack of knives, there were so many he'd never seen half of the blades before. His hands went to a combat knife and a set of smaller throwing knifes which he tucked into his belt, he took a few more combat knives before bringing the dummies and setting them in place below the obstacle course. He knew the Game-Makers wanted a show and that was precisely what they'd get from him.

Haymitch made his way to the starting point of the course much like the other day following the route he had taken before although upon some of the posts he had stood dummies, as he came up to the first his hands gripped the hilts of the combat knives he had taken and he easily swung them down in two arcs, his sharp swipes easily cutting through the flesh-like material of the mannequin causing it to fall back out of his way without him even losing stride. He continued on his way although instead of hanging from the bars he pulled himself up to balance above them. He ran near-silently across the bars before crouching at the end of them looking down and judging the distance of his decent. In the next moment he had jumped and fallen down on the mannequins back, his feet having landing just on what would be a person's upper shoulder blade pushing the figure down to the floor as his twin blades swiped down with swift speed, crossing the blades across the figure's neck before swiping them back on themselves easily severing the head of the mannequin causing it to roll away.

The Game-Makers stood looking surprised that someone from such a lowly district could achieve such feats and with this Haymitch threw the smaller knifes at a board which was located a few 50 metres away these lodging themselves well in the dead-centre of the board. He exited without even looking at the Makers making his way up allowing the doors to slam behind his back. If that wasn't a show then he didn't know quite what was.


	6. The Scores Are Given

Haymitch had skipped his meal and headed straight into his Quarters slamming the door so that the sound reverberated down the corridors of our shared Quarters just to let the others know that he was in no mood for comfort or discussion. Haymitch walked with a sigh out onto his balcony he didn't think of the things to come, he sat down on the balcony his legs crossed over one another as he looked down on the people going about their lives below – Those stupid people with the posh accents and weird faces whom he would so shortly entertain by dying in some gruesome battle or fight.

Haymitch closed his eyes and forgot about the world about him only concentrating on the blackness behind his eyes, he soon found his mind had drifted back to the Opening Ceremony, to the sight of Maysilee in that black dress which hugged her figure perfectly, the sight of her golden hair tumbling down over her back as she waited along with the other tributes from 12. Tilting his head back as he sat there he sighed his mind consumed by May – It was a nickname only he had ever been allowed to call her and her nickname for him was just Mitch. He usually hated being called it but when she said it he wasn't sure what it was, but it was right. Haymitch was so consumed by the thoughts in his mind that he hadn't heard the door to his rooms click shut at the sound of someone entering. The soft footsteps that approached where unheard due to the lack of shoes it was only when he sensed movement beside him did he realise that someone had joined him to sit down. His eyes snapped open only to find the person who had just infiltrated his mind to be sat in front of him.

There had always been some kind of connection between the two of them, some unspoken thing that joined them he could never quite pinpoint it and for some reason he felt guilty. He thought back to Maia at home, hoping for him to come home from something he never would – He knew these would his last days of enjoying everything that life had to offer him and so he'd do whatever the hell he wanted while he had the time.  
"Hey Mitch. You alright? I heard. . . Well not much but the scores will be out soon." Maysilee said in her quiet voice, her eyes seemed to draw him in as he sat there looking at her – her hair was pinned up in a messy bun and she wore a dark grey vest with black joggers.  
At the mention to the scores Haymitch just sighed, he'd probably be ranked middle although for his attitude he couldn't say maybe he'd be ranked high? No it was unlikely more that he'd be low and so would be seen as easy pickings for the others.

"Oh of course I'm just dandy, I just love being used as a piece in a bigger game." He said his sarcastic tone bare and evident when he spoke. He rubbed his ear with this now looking out over the Capitol before back to her. "We had dreams, we had lives which we wanted to live. I wanted it to be old age which took me not some fucking bloodbath, I don't want to be shredded to bits or played with before it's done. We're not food to be picked at and then left to rot!" He said his voice rising as the anger that he had within him rose to the surface. He already had pent up anger from the Training session earlier, he wanted his life back his words and anger continued on Haymitch's curses and yells –were silenced by the force-field around the building.

Maysilee just sat listening to him rant and yell, she knew the anger he felt but this was just beyond anything she had ever seen from him. Did he really care so much about life that having it taken away from him would ruin him completely? No this was just emotions he felt towards the capitol she'd never seen him like this – this wasn't the Haymitch she knew. To be honest she was just getting fed up of his ranting and there was something she wanted to do before The Scores were announced or they went to meet Caesar for their interviews, Maysilee shifted to kneel in front of him taking his angular jaw between her hands before pulling him towards her.

Haymitch just sat there looking slightly dumbfounded as his rants were silenced when Maysilee pulled him into a deep kiss – nothing like what he had shared with Maia this was magic, the way her lips crushed against his own. This kiss was one of sadness but something more – Sorrow? Possibly that was it his brain overworked although the guilt he felt for Maia was gone because she would never see him again so Haymitch went along with it his strong arms pulling her into his lap as his own lips moulded against her own to him this was right, and somehow, among all of the dizziness and the clinging to her made him feel as though he had a life line, something inside of him changed, never to be reversed. This new feeling could be dwelled upon later, because, for now, Haymitch was content to feel something new – something stronger than what he had ever, would ever experience. Haymitch's anger had clouded his normally rational thoughts and his arms pulled her to her feet along with him as he rose making sure as not to break the intimate kiss between them. He pulled her back through the door to the balcony into his Quarters. . .

The window was almost bursting at the seams with the last rays of the day. A nostalgic feeling had indulged itself onto both of them; giving a feeling that this should have been for a long time. His arms were tightly wrapped around her shoulders, hers, clinging to his hard muscular chest, and her head on his shoulder. Basking in each other's ambiance, creating each other's warmth. He looked down at her, his eyes dulled by the darkness of the room.

He gave that quirky smile, that one he now knew she had loved from a long time ago; the one that gave her the feeling as if he knew something that she didn't. Caressing her supple cheek, he lifted her chin; their noses almost touching. She could feel the warmth of his breath brushing the top of her lip. She stared back into his hardened grey eyes an explosion of total peace and serenity overwhelmed them both. The true meaning of life, the love, and the utter wonder on both of their faces, hoping this evening would never end. Knowing that for both of them, this may be the last time to prove their now realized melancholy love, so strong, so deep, and yet so sad to never want to let go, to the meaning of what little life they had left. Maysilee eventually peeled out of his strong embrace to gather her previously discarded clothes pulling them back on Haymitch followed suit soon after and they both soon re-joined the other tributes who had gathered around the screen – they hadn't missed the scores lucky for them they took their seats looking to the screen in silence as the scores came up. It went in ascending order so District 12 was left to last – as always.

Maysilee's score came up as a 9 whatever she had shown them obviously had impressed the Game-Makers it was then that Haymitch's turn came his picture flashed up onto the screen. He had to say it wasn't that bad he could say almost respectable for once. His mouth fell open a bit as the 10 flashed up upon the screen – That couldn't be correct no. . . He didn't want a high score it meant he'd be classed as a threat Haymitch didn't wait around to find out the final few scores he was gone and up on the roof in an instant having fallen back down into the previous rants that he had had earlier in the day.


End file.
